Once Was Lost
by Ann Nymous
Summary: Erika's a magazine writer, Jack's in charge of distribution, having come from the past into her life three years ago. When Erika and Jack redefine things a little, things start happening that Erika can't control, things that make her question her choices. Sort of Modern AU. *hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

I leaned over and turned off the alarm clock, knowing that in a few minutes the alarms I'd hidden around the flat would start to go off at five minute intervals until I gave up and woke up. Next to me, my flatmate mumbled darkly about how he hated having to be woken up. I didn't mind-it was the usual morning routine. Ever since I came here on the train to go to school,things had been better. That's when we'd met, and well, we'd hit things off nicely right from the bat. He understand my need for freedom, didn't understand why I found the city to be that place, even though he'd been coming back from a different city, and while he was still getting used to women's rights, he didn't argue when I came home late or left early from work. School was an after thought now. I took one or two classes a semester, and I didn't really complain. I love my job at the magazine where I work as a writer, and I don't care that I probably won't get further than little backwater magazines until I get my degree, and even then, I might not move further.

"Come on, time to get up and get to work," I whisper in his ear, hugging him, before pushing the covers off of the both of us and padding towards the bathroom, ignoring my slippers even though, once I stepped off the shag rug, the floor was freezing. It's December. Of course it's freezing.

"Ugh, do I have to?" He worked at the magazine as a distributor, lovingly coming up with new ways to expand our clientele, convincing small organic stores to carry our whistle-blowing magazine, convincing small coffee-shops, even sometimes going out and standing on street corners selling to people. At least, until the fifth time he was picked up and I had to get a bail bond to get him out since the judge was sick of seeing him in front of them. He was depressed for a few weeks after that, but then he'd actually opened up and told me a little about himself.

"Of course you do," I call back as I turn on the shower water and wait for it to warm up to the temperature I was asking it to provide me with. "Make breakfast will you?"

I can hear the creak of the floor on his side of the bed as he gets up. "You know I still can't cook much more than those toaster waffles you like so much baby."

"Then make toaster waffles. Warm up the syrup and make some coffee too? Pweease?" I make the adorable face that makes him melt into the palm of my hand so easily. In the three years we've known each other, it's been an easy relationship. Nothing too complicated. No argument over what is going to happen next. We started as friends, me showing him the ways of the world, since he was naive to the craze of 1999 as Y2k came barrelling towards us. (Not that I believe in y2k, even though the article I've got to turn in by eleven am is on preparing for survival of Y2k.)

"Aww sure," he sticks his head in and kisses my neck, careful to avoid the starts of the soapy trails coming from where I was shampooing my hair. "Good morning Erika."

"Morning Jack." I catch his hand and kiss his knuckles, since I can do that safely without getting water and soap all over the bathroom floor. He grins at me and I feel my heart catch a moment before I turned back to the shower head and started to rinse out the shampoo, before reaching for my body wash. Jack and I may be friends with benefits, but deep down, I always wonder if maybe he and I are just denying something else that we're hiding from ourselves and from each other. As the water runs over me, I wonder what it would be like if I could introduce him as my boyfriend when I meet people that I know but he doesn't, instead of just my friend. I sigh, and shove the thoughts out of my mind, knowing that, while I mostly had my own personal shit from the past under control, Jack didn't, and he was still rooted deeply in something of the past. "Read my article for me and proof it, will you?" I call out, deciding that I did want to take Jack up on his outstanding offer to proof anything I write. Proof as in how sellable is this, not proof as in whether or not I used the correct form of a word or put one too many commas in. Jack was entirely still working on that. I won't even get started on his reliance on his calculator. He's got a smart head on his shoulders, but for advanced math, he struggles. He knows basics, but not much else. What he really knows is the world of the papers.

Ten minutes later I've managed to put on a gray pencil skirt, a dark purple silk blouse Jack surprised me with on my birthday (I still don't know his birthday, come to think of it), and the requisite nylons, heels, and make-up. There's a corporate meeting of sorts today, and as head writer for my division (I'm still squealing happily over this) our boss, Mary, asked us to come. Jack is half dressed, shirtless in the cold of our apartment, somehow staying warm since I don't see any evidence of goosebumps, and waiting with food at the table. I smile as I see the clamshell of blackberries and the homemade whipped cream sitting by my plate. He must have hidden them in the back of the fridge after he got back from the store last night, while I was dealing with finishing frying up the potstickers. The toaster waffles are on plates, a glass thing of syrup resting on a potholder in the center of our tiny circular table from Ikea, and two steaming mugs of coffee resting next to our plates.

"So how is it?" I ask him, noting his look of concentration as he looks at the printed draft of my article. Computers still bewilder him for some reason, as do phones and a myriad of other things, but he's getting much much better.

"You need to improve da truth, obviously, but not dis much." He's lapsed into the accent he had when I first met him, a New Yorker accent, but a bit different from the voices you usually heard on the street, less cultured than most that I hear. It's changed over the past three years, but I still love hearing his voice like this.

"How much less?" I pour syrup over my already buttered waffles and dig in, knowing that we'll need to leave soon. He's already half done with his food, and I know he didn't wait so that he could slide in and shave the stubble off of his face. Sometimes he lets it grow, but most times he shaves it off, declaring he doesn't like the look of whiskers on his face. I like him both ways, and I'm honestly not sure what my favorite is-maybe the five o clock shadow on his face when he doesn't shave for a couple days because he's busy working on something and gets carried away, not pausing except for when he needs help using the computer.

"Clear up some of this vague, nebulous, fake seeming source stuff. I know dat's you improving da truth, but you need to watch it. Don't get cocky Erika."

'How can I get..."

He shoves a blackberry in my mouth, stopping me from continuing on with my somewhat sexual remark because he knows what I'm about to say. "Come on Snark. Eat up." A minute later he takes his coffee with him to the bathroom, and I hear the usual soft uses that come with him nicking himself on the modern razor he's trying to learn to use, since he decided he was tired of using an old-fasihoned straight razor after a couple of the guys at work told him he could get a better shave this way. I'm hoping he'll go back to the straight razor. I loved watching him shave when he used the straight razor.

We leave the house on time, me having added a long black wool coat and gloves, not to mention a scarf to my attire while he's shrugged on a gray shirt and a suit jacket and his woolen blazer, with the red scarf I'd knitted for him when I broke my ankle last winter. I didn't knit it persay, more like wove it on what my friend who does knit calls a cheater's knitting loom. Whenever it gets cold, Jack is inseparable from that scarf. It's adorable. "At least it didn't snow any more," he points out calmly, as he locks the door behind us with his glove-less hands. He always refuses to wear gloves, and instead has cold digits when we get places, but they warm up quickly, because of a few tricks he holds up his sleeve. I shrug, adjusting the straps of my satchel and my purse on my shoulder before taking the hand he offers me as we walk quickly down the street towards the station.

"True or false," he begins.

'Okay," I murmur, knowing that he sometimes begins serious conversations in this casual, nonchalant seeming manner. "You first." I always let him go first when he does this, it's like a tradition.

"We're not exactly just friends anymore, are we?" He runs his free hand through his dark hair, and I bite my lip, wondering how to respond.

"Yeah, I suppose. I mean, most people call what we have friends with benefits."

"Shared living expenses and occasional sex?" He half-smiles, with a sad twist to it.

"Something like that," I sigh, hoping that this conversation isn't going to end with him telling me he's got a girlfriend, telling me he's going to move out. Truth be told, he and I could either pool our money to afford a better place, or have one of us move out to a different flat and still be able to afford the rent, but to me, having him there in the flat is security, warmth, and well...

"I don't know how to put this, because honestly I've never had these kinds of feelings before, but, you see..." He pauses for a moment to hand a homeless man we became friends with, Mad Max, a ten dollar bill, with a smile and an oddly placed wink. I know that Jack has spent a lot of time talking to Mad Max, so I can only surmise that the wink must be some sort of secret communication about some secret that they each share. Jack doesn't pick up where he left off for a few minutes, not until we're comfortably ensconced in a warm taxi cab, the driver ignoring our conversation by listening to opera, of all things. Go figure, this is New York after all. "Erika...I don't want to just be something nebulous, like we're fuck buddies or something." The phrase rolls out of his mouth like it's a foul taste. "Before I met you, yeah, I had a lot of girls in my life who were my "dates" for short time frames, but it was more of a one or two night fuck buddy thing, maybe a couple weeks max, but then I'd break their hearts and leave. I've known you for three years and..."

My cell rung and I gave him an apologetic smile as I picked it up. "Erika Worthington."

"I can't get a hold of Mary and I know she's busy and won't have time to check her thousands of messages-I think her voice box is full and I don't want to page her over something this silly but I just can't go into the office today! Cover for me?" Amanda Owens, my co-worker and the slut of the office wailed into my ear. "I don't want to call Charlotte because the bitch is half responsible, but I do NOT have the willpower to face her and my cheating now ex."

"Honey, calm down. Can you drop off your article or is there something else going on other than breaking up with that man whore?"

Jack stiffles a laugh as he realizes who I'm talking to and what it must be about. Amanda has dated almost every guy in the office, and I swear she'll turn lesbian when she's done. Jack and her went on one date, she tried to get him to have sex, and he didn't finish the story after that, and Amanda refuses to talk about it. Dagnabit.

"Oh Erika...Erika...Erika! I'm in the hospital, because I found out I was five months pregnant and he flipped, claiming it couldn't be mine and kicked my stomach so hard I lost the baby."

"Next soap opera story?" I say blandly. I know she isn't preggo because I had to help her out when her period seeped through her white pencil skirt last week. "Mensi cramps don't count and neither do broken nails. The truth?"

"I'm in the drunk tank! I only got this call because I said I had pets I needed a friend to take care of. You will take care of Snookums for me?"

"Your boa constrictor? You called the wrong woman for that." I hang up, hoping that the call hadn't been collect and knowing it probably was since it was from jail most likely. Amanda drunk usually means her trying to commit a crime or two. Mary said after the next incident she'd fire Amanda. I'm not covering for Amanda; I'm done putting up with her flirting with everything that has the capability to give her...oh never mind. I let out an angry sigh and whump my head back against the headrest. "She's locked up. Mary had better follow through this time." Mary was a dear and didn't like firing people.

"I'm sure she will, especially if CHarlotte and Owen are involved. Charlotte is Mary's niece after all." Jack shifted uncomfortably. "So...what I was saying..." The taxi driver blares his horn especially violently and I notice that we're in a serious traffic snarl. Something must be happening more than normal for a Tuesday morning.

"Any clue what it is?" I address the driver, before Jack can continue. He's notorious for just ignoring things like this.

"Jumper ma'am. Seems to be a huge snarl. I can take an alternate route but it'll take an extra while."

"Take it please. What were you saying Jack?" I turn back to him and squeeze his hand, impulsive, but feeling sorry for cutting him off.

"Oh screw it..." he mutters, than releases my hand and grabs my face and pulls me to him in a long, drawn out kiss with more passion than anything before, even the times we've had sex. He pulls back, and I take a deep shaky breath, trying to get air into my lungs. Oh please don't be pulling me along for nothing Jack.

"Jack?" I ask softly, taking off my gloves and setting them in my purse and putting my bare hand on is cheek.

"I love you Erika,' he whispers softly. "I've known you three years and you're different. You don't press for answers and you don't question me and my past. Dis is hard for me, but I think dat, well.." The taxi driver turns up his music and Jack smiles up at the man appreciatively. "I had all dese plans Erika, but I just can't wait longer. I can't offer much, but..."

I kiss him softly. "Jack, are we jumping over a few steps here?"

"It's been a year and a half since m'last date with someone other than you Erika," Jack whispered, the old accent still mingling with his new one. "I've made up my mind bout dis, and I hope dat, well..." He palms a small cold object into my hand, and looks at me with a look that's more powerful than any of the intense stares he's given me before. "It'd be an honor..."

"The honor is mine." I whisper, opening my hand and looking down at the ring, the same ring I'd pointed out in a tiny expensive private shop when we'd been shopping for a gift for Mary's ten year anniversary since she founded the magazine. He must have saved so much since that moment six months ago. I'd seen the price tag and had been floored. This explained the lack of new clothes, the lack of splurging, the reduced dinner dates and the desire to cook at home more often. "Oh Jack..." I kiss him again, and while we kiss he takes the ring from my hand and slides it onto my ring finger, and it fits perfectly. How he found my ring size out when even I don't know is a mystery.

He wraps his arms around me and I lean my head on his shoulder for the rest of the taxi ride. When we go to pay the taxi driver, he shakes his head. "I try to give my passengers their privacy, but I couldn't help notice. You two have a blessed life together, I'll cover this ride." He says, as a new fare comes up and gets in, telling him where to head to.

I drop a fifty dollar bill stubbornly into his tip jar and smile at him. "Thanks." It's sudden, and there's so much that could go wrong, but I shove my worry-wart self aside and focus on the fact that I'm so happy I could burst right now. I smile up at Jack as he wraps an arm around me as we walk into the building where the offices are for the magazine and into the elevator. I'd left my gloves off and the ring sparkled in the winter sunlight, and in the florescents of the building.

Jack pulls me into an elevator that is miraculously not full and shuts the door, hitting the button for the twelfth floor and pulls me to him. "I wish we could go back in time and you could meet all my friends. They'd love you." He'd told me a bit of how he'd come from the past, when he got sick once, and I wondered how going back in time would work, if we'd both be three years younger, or if his friends would all be three years older.

"I'd like that. What did you do for a living back then, what did they do for a living? Or is that too forward?"

"You're gonna marry me Erika, so as the happiest man in the world, I can tell you no, it's about time I told you everything." He kissed my forehead and held me closer somehow. "We were all newsies, for the most part, although some of us were starting to get too old-myself included." He shuts his eyes. "It was a hard life, but I loved it."

I close my eyes and lean against him, knowing we're in the elevator that always takes ten minutes to go up twelve floors. A technician had looked at it multiple times and said that there was nothing wrong with it. "I'd like to experience it. I can see you as a newsie Jack."

_AN: Alright, I resisted the urge as long as I want, and then Erika presented herself to me as an OC. I know there's a lot of people sick of time travel stories and etcetera, or where girl always meets happy ending, and while I understand, Erika wouldn't shut up in my head (my characters always talk to me annoyingly enough when I'm taking exams) and wanted some piece. No, I don't know if it will stay AU modern or if it will go to post strike Newsies. _

_I don't own a copy of the DVD, and so I can't just immerse myself until I can write perfect accents for them, so I'll do a bit here and there, but I'm trying. Also, I DON'T OWN NEWSIES. Dammit *insert rant here that would be much much worse to unleash at someone than the infamous CB rant*. I wish I could own Newsies, but then, don't we all? _

_Reviews are the virtual chocolate of this website, so review. Also, if you care enough about this to want to see more, I'll eventually write more, but interest does drum up more plot bunnies and snark from Erika. _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One:

"It's so pretty," Charlotte cooed, holding my left hand, looking at the ring that had been on my finger for less than five hours as we sat in the lunch area on the ninth floor, eating our food leisurely, knowing that we'd both met our deadlines. "He proposed this morning? On the way here? Not as romantic as..."  
"Char...it was romantic to me, and that's what matters. I just...I'm so glad it happened. I was sick of just being in that awkward kind of relationship. I can't believe I didn't notice it'd been over a year since he'd gone out on a date with someone other than me before. And he found a way to buy me my dream ring," I was gushing, completely out of character, but I was trying to keep Charlotte from asking about why I was taking a trip to the library to look into the newspaper archives for something. Hopefully I could find a picture or two from the strike that might have Jack's friends in them. It was obvious he missed them, especially now that he'd started telling me about them, as we'd ridden the elevator up to work, and as we'd walked in, until we had to separate to our different offices. I still didn't completely understand how he'd ended up here, but basically, he and I decided that he just couldn't remember having ridden in the Tardis. I love the fact that, even though he doesn't understand why I'm so interested in Doctor Who, he still made a reference to it. It'd be like me making a reference to Rawhide-that old early Clint Eastwood cowboy show that Jack just loves.  
"And honey, now that I've seen the beaut in person, I can agree. It's perfect for you, and for Jack to relalize that and make that sacrifice is just..." She sighs as her pager beeps and she checks it. "Okay, layout needs me. Oi vey, I'll let your beloved Jack know you went to the library if you want..."  
"Nah, I already told him," I fib, making sure that none of my usual tells are evident in my actions as I stand up with her, taking my purse with me along with my tray, walking next to her towards the exit that led towards the stairs-her current diet plan was taking the stairs around the building except when she was late.  
"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck at the library." She grimaces and heads towards the stairs with a moderate amount of determination, her heels clicking violently. I just shook my head, as familiar arms wrapped around my waist.  
"Hey Jack," I murmur, turning around to hug him, breathing in the heady scent that I associated with him. "How're things?"  
"Other than finding you only having a quick snack at two in the afternoon, when I know you weren't at lunch again, pretty well." He bent down and kissed me, deciding to ignore the office policies and lingering a bit longer than the chaste kiss that we were supposed to stick to, according to our boss. Hell, we just got engaged. I kiss him back happily, wondering in the back of my mind if it's a bad idea to try to find a picture or two of the strike that may have his friends in it.  
"I'll pick up take-out on my way back from my errands?" I give him the puppy dog ideas, hoping he'll drop the subject of my bad eating habits. Of course, knowing Jack, he won't.  
"You need to eat better love, but by all means, pick up take-out. You're leaving already?" His brow furrowed. "I thought..."  
"I'll be fine Jack." I look at him, patting my purse meaningfully. "I'm just going to go start some research at the library."  
"Ah..okay. Dat's fine." He smirked at me, knowing he'd won the moment he'd started to slip back into his old accent from when I first met him. "I'll be back around six thirty, if traffic is the usual snarl." He pulls back and kisses my cheek. "Now, I have to go call Borders about their ridiculous attempts to change the agreement. Distribution isn't what it once was baby."  
"Extra extra, read all about it. Jack Kelly is engaged?" I joke in a sing-song voice.  
"Nah...no one cares about what's up with me." He cocked his head to one side. "If that's the best that I could get for a headline, I'd stick with something like street scum to wed famous beauty. Or something like that."  
I punch his shoulder playfully. "I'm not a beauty, not even close."  
"To me you are," He said, before heading towards the stairs. "I'm going to go race past Charlotte." He smirks, and I feel a pang in my heart. I hope what I'm about to do doesn't hurt him.  
"Oh fine...be good." I blow a kiss his direction and then turn towards the elevators, hoping that I'd be able to find something. It takes ten minutes to flag down a cab, and another forty to get to the library. I occupy my time brainstorming ideas for my next article, for next week's edition, hoping I can find something intriguing to write on hydroponics. I hate when I get a bland (in my opinion) topic dumped on me. I have no ideas. Maybe I'll have to teach Jack about hydroponics and then get his help. I shrug the thought away and stare at my ring happily.  
"Twenty bucks ma'am." The cabbie says, pointing at the meter. I hand him a twenty and stalk towards the library. I at least want to find a picture of Jack before he'd grown into the guy I was going to marry. He'd been sixteen at the time of the strike, almost seventeen, according to what he'd told me, and it'd been a couple years since the strike when he and I met. He's twenty three now, so three or four years, give or take a bit. I'll just casually ask him if he ever considered looking for a picture of his friends.  
"Hey Erika!" My favorite librarian and real best friend, Amy Connor, calls in a whisper from where she's sitting at the information counter, the second I walk into the library. "What's up?"  
"One, I need something on hydroponics. Two, do you have newspapers in your archives from July 1899?" I give her my best ask me no questions please look, and she grins.  
"I'm guessing you've been asked to rant on hydroponics now and sound educated on something you don't have any interest in?" She starts to pull me towards the non-fiction section after a quick hug, while I nod my acknoledgement, looking around at the world of books that I loved so much. "When're you going to write your own story? And...YOU'RE ENGAGED?" She shrieked, causing everyone to turn and look at her. I rolled my eyes and held up my hand, the engagement ring glittering.  
"Sorry...I just got engaged to my boyfriend and she's been begging me to marry the guy since I met him. He's a hunk and a half."  
"Three hunks," Amy chimed in, earning a laugh from her co-workers. I always come to this branch because they're the most chill librarians ever and the customers are cool with it too. "Now," she returned to a librarian voice, and started to pull a couple books from a shelf. "Here's a detailed book and a simple dunderhead book dearie, read the dunderhead one completely and use excerpts from the complicated one. The usual shebang."  
"Thanks Amy. The archives?"  
"Sure, you'll need to use my workstation if you'll want to print. I'm pretty sure we have some stuff from back then." She pulls me back to where she had been sitting and pulls out her chair, before leaning over me and typing rapidly to pull up the program I needed. "I love this new program, by the way."  
"You've mentioned. Glad to use it. Can I blow up what I want first too?"  
"I'm not sure. Just go to a copy shop dearie, it'll be easier and neither of us will get in as much shit." Amy picks up my books and fishes my wallet out of purse. "I'll check these out for you to give you some privacy."  
"Thanks Amy. I owe you a million and one times."  
"You're at a billion," she wrinkles her nose, one of those petite noses made for doing that and looking adorable, and floats off to the check-out desk. Amy's one of those people who you love once you get to know her, but she seems eerily eccentric if you don't give her a chance. I had made the mistake of calling her out on her eccentricity, and I'd gotten my butt kicked in a verbal trivia spar that apparently included knowing which famous artists or musicians Laurie was supposed to look like in Little Woman. I love that movie and book, but seriously Amy? That's insane.  
I find what I'm looking for after half an hour, Amy having floated around taking care of other things while I worked. I finally found a headline in the Sun, a picture that was actually labeled, listing Jack by name, front and center. I print out the page, and gather up my stuff. "I'm done Amy."  
She dashed over and cocked her head to look at the picture. "Huh. Never heard of that strike."  
"It was something I was considering doing an interest piece on, but it got shot down, I still wanted to look it up more though since it seemed really cool."  
"Of course you did." She wrinkled her nose as she smiled again and hugged me. "Now get going, library closes early today."  
"I know."

It's dark, and seven thirty when Jack comes home, the take-out staying warm in the oven because I wanted to wait for him to eat. I'd at least changed into sweats and a tank-top, and my fuzzy panda slippers.  
"Hey babe," I greet him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down to my level to kiss him. "Food's in the oven."  
"You haven't eaten yet either have you?" He frowns, then sees the remanants of the apple I'd sliced up and the open thing of caramel dip. "Well, least you snacked on something healthy."  
"Why so concerned about my eating habits?"  
"Because I've seen too many people die of starvation." His voice was stern and blunt and I nodded. It was a conversation we'd had before. He kissed my cheek, then stole my last apple slice, ignoring the caramel dip. "It's a good apple..mmmm." He dumps his bags on the floor then sheds his scarf and coat onto the back of the chair before opening the oven and getting the food out of it, setting a plate in front of me. "Now, eat up."  
The framed picture in my nightstand drawer was burning a hole in my metaphorical pocket, but I took a bite of the food anyways, then another. I was hungrier than I'd realized.  
"Like I thought," Jack crowed, between bites of food. "Now, how was hydroponics researching? And what else were you researching?"  
Crap. "Umm...Amy picked out a couple books for me on hydroponics that I'm going to read. I'm not going to make you help me write this either. I'm going to try to be self-sufficient."  
Jack rolled his eyes. "And? Something's eating at you Erika, I know you."  
"I...I..." I sigh, set my fork down, and wordlessly go and get the silver frame with the picture from the strike in it. "I hope this isn't going to piss you off or not be..."  
"Erika..." Jack breathed the word, as he shakily (something Jack Kelly never is in front of me at least) took the frame from me and examined the contents, running his fingers reverently over it. "You found the picture Denton took of some of us...I...I didn't realize I could do somethin' like this."  
"Yeah, you can." I take another bite of my food and swallow it properly before continuing. "So, you like it?"  
He hugs me tightly, and when he pulls back I can see tears in his eyes. "It's great Erika. You know, I never got a good look at it...you see...when the guys and I found out, Denton had only brought us one paper."  
"Big mistake?"  
"Yeah. Spot...Spot Conlon, the guy in charge of the newsies in Brooklyn, he ended up taking it cause he's a major egotist. Or at least, he was. He's probably dead now." I bite my lip. "Anyways," Jack continues, cheerily, "he took the paper and that's the last we saw of it, cept when we went to Brooklyn's lodging house and we saw it posted up on his bunk. He's a pretty okay guy actually."  
"Present tense? I like it. Maybe we can get back someday, get away from all the stuff we have here."  
"I'd like that. I was on my way to go visit them in New York when I ended up here. I hadn't seen 'em in almost two years. Just letters. All I did was wish on a falling star that I'd have something or someone to show for the work I'd done."  
"Oh Jack..." I hug him, and wait patiently while he cries, knowing the food'll probably get cold and need reheated. I don't care. I just want to find a way to pay Jack back for everything he's done for me.

**AN: Yep. I don't own Newsies, and this is another sort of a filler chapter. The proposal scene in the prologue wasn't meant to happen, so my original ideas are out the door. However, I'm glad my guest reviewer liked it. I did too, hence why it randomly spouted forth onto the page. **

**The age rambling is just to establish a tiny bit of a reference point. Unrealistic, but I don't want to deal with them when they're all really old, because that's just...eh, not my cuppa tea. This most likely won't be a modern AU much longer. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm back, I don't own Newsies still, and the hiatus is still on, I just had this idea and I'm going to float with it. I'm stuck on a convincing method for Jack having got forward in time without actually using the Tardis. What can I say? David Tennant and Christian Bale in the same room. Anyways, it's short, but writer's block can do that to chapter length.**

Chapter Three (point 1):

"Are you sure you want to do this Jack?" I asked my soon to be husband, wondering if the day before our much talked over trip to the justice of the peace was a good day to be doing this.  
"Erika," Jack turned and took my head between his hands, turning my face to look up at him before planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "I need to do this. I want to tell them about the pretty girl I met after I disappeared. I wish I could find out what happened to the rest of them."  
"Like his sister?" The question floats out of my mouth cynically. Giving Jack the picture had broken the dam on the stories, and I'd since heard about all of his friends from "back in the day" as we called it. I didn't tell Jack, but I was secretly writing it all down, saving it onto a floppy, wondering if someday I'd do something with it. I couldn't necessarily say it was non-fiction, but I didn't want to try to publish it as fiction. In those stories, Jack's relationship, never really solidified apparently, with Sarah Jacobs, had emerged. True, he'd had some floozies, but then, I'd slept with a few other guys before I'd slept with Jack. Troubled past and all that comes with being me.  
Jack stepped back for a moment, almost recoiling at the thought, and then shook his head. "Nah, not her in particular. She wanted me to be some posh fairytale cowboy from her imagination, sweep her off her feet and get rich somehow."  
"Like a Rockefeller or something?" I quipped, stepping forward and putting a hand on Jack's shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."  
"Nah, it's fine." Jack squared his shoulders and took my hand from his shoulder and into his. "You gots the things?"  
I gesture to my satchel with my free hand. "I do. You saw me pack em."  
"Just making sure baby," he steals a kiss quickly and dexteriously and I can't help but laugh, even though we're entering a cemetary.  
We walk briskly through the cemetary, following instructions Jack had written down on an index card after he'd called the cemetary after finding the obituary for his friend Les when he was combing through archives on a whim. He didn't know some of the boys' real names, so he couldn't try to find most of them.  
The tombstone for Les Jacobs was small, nondescript, and merely held his name, the dates 1889-1953, with no inscription. The grave wasn't attended by anyone's particular care, just the usual trimming of the groundskeeper, who had smiled at us as we entered. Jack knelt down by the grave, tears coming down his cheeks, something I rarely ever saw. I opened my satchel and handed him the things he'd requested and then stepped back.  
"Hey Les," Jack began after a while. "I suppose you know all bout what happened to the papers we used to hawk together. Headlines today in the Times are shit. It's March 2000. You've been dead for almost half a century, and here I am, age 23 and about to get married tomorrow. No offense to your sister, but Erika here is the prettiest girl you'll ever see. She's a writer, and she's helped me get along here. I tried to find all of you guys, find out what happened to you, but I can only find you, and the pape doesn't even tell if you got any family. You sure don't have anyone still visiting your grave." He chokes back more tears and puts the paper down in front of Les Jacobs' tombstone. "Erika's with me here. She'd be a good newsie with a bit of training. She's got some natural talent, but not as much as you did kid. Her name'd be Snark."  
I feel like crying now, and I turn and head back towards a bench I saw a ways back, out of hearing, but where Jack can still see me when he's done. I pull a book out of my satchel, and start reading it, but I can't get far. By this time tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Jack Kelly. Holy shit. I wondered if Jack would mind what I'd done with the two weeks we'd gotten off from the magazine at the insistance of Mary. He hasn't flown a plane before, but I could only get train tickets for the return journey to New York from Santa Fe. Sure, Santa Fe isn't the western allure that it was back in 1899 and etcetera, but I'd found a little house to rent for the duration of our stay, and it was like a tiny cabin out on the outskirts of civilization from the pictures, and there were horses that we could ride. Technically, I'd just called in a favor from an old friend. But Jack Kelly was going to go to Santa Fe with his new bride tomorrow afternoon if I had a damn thing to do with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Alright. That last chapter sucked-I'll fix it or even replace it when I can. I don't own anything except my OC's. Also, I did absolutely no research on the locational stuff, so bear with me, and correct me if you wanna. I'm moving a bit fast because I need to get to the plot I finally figured out. I blame the content of this chapter and it's drawn out over sappy nature on the fact that I've been watching too many rom-coms lately.**

Chapter Four:

I fidgeted as Charlotte helped me out by buttoning up the back of the vintage dress I'd obtained, as I stared into the mirror, almost not recognizing myself. I'd spent the night here at her apartment, because even though this wasn't a real wedding, just an appointment in an office to get some guy to pronounce us man and wife and sign a document, I still wanted to follow through with the whole "don't see the bride before the wedding thing." Or as close to the wedding as I could get, I added mentally in my thoughts, smiling to myself, wondering how Jack would look. I knew I'd probably get some wierd stares from other people for wearing the dress, but I'd found it at an estate sale a couple weeks ago and I'd fallen in love with it. Jack hadn't seen it yet, and I hoped he wouldn't freak out.  
"Relax hon. Jack's a dear. He's not going to stand you up," Charlotte soothed, as she finished buttoning the dress up and put down the button hook with a relieved sigh.  
"I know that. I'm just excited, and a little nervous. I'm getting MARRIED Char. That's an insanely important thing to do in life." I fiddled with one of the curled strands of hair hanging down into my face and wondered if I was rushing into things.  
"And you're making the best choice you could hon, even if Jack Kelly is a bit of a mystery boy."  
"It adds sex appeal," I quip, as I shrug into my jacket and pick up my purse. "You'll have the luggage loaded into the taxi and all that?"  
"I've got everything under control, although why you want to go back to that hell hole you grew up in beats me." Charlotte put a scarf around her neck and grabbed her own things, before opening the door and helping me out. I didn't have much mobility in the dress, what with the corset. I had a pair of cargo pants and a black t-shirt to change into as soon as we were married, for before we went to the little pub we all loved so much for lunch and drinks, before Jack and I had to leave for the airport. "I know you love that dress, but seriously, how did people survive wearing these things?"  
"Obviously it was easier to rape people back then," I snap cynically, knowing that she's working on a thing about rape over the years and was a little touchy on the subject. Charlotte never said anything, but a gut sense told me she'd either been raped, almost raped, or had known someone who had been raped. The way she'd fought to actually get to write the piece instead of just do layout told me enough to confirm my gut sense. Char was allowed to write articles, but she rarely ever exercised that ability except when something caught her interest particularly.  
"You had to go there?" Charlotte opened the door of the cab she'd had waiting and helped me in before getting in herself, making me scoot over to the other side. The taxi driver rolled his eyes, muttered women under his breath than pulled off the curb. I was glad Char lived on the bottom floor of her building.  
"Where to ladies?"  
"City hall. Justice please." Charlotte chirped. "She's getting married today."  
"And next week I'll drive you to get divorced?" The cabby was a cynical man apparently, and I elbowed Char to get her attention to give her our little signal for "shut up and don't talk to the guy" from back when we rode in cabs together a lot.  
"Jack's always wanted to go to Santa Fe," I explained the choice to go back to New Mexico as calmly as I could to Charlotte, hoping she wouldn't pry too much. "So I rented my aunt's ranch from her without her realizing it's me, which would be bad." I don't tell Charlotte, nor have I told Jack ever that I ran away from them and stole a huge amount of money from them and that I was pretty sure they'd arrest me if they saw me again. My foster dad was a cop after all, a shitty arse of a cop, but still had a badge and the ability to arrest me. I wonder idly for a moment, like I do occasionally when I think about my past, if there's a sentence enhancement for stealing from a cop.  
"And how are you going to get in?"  
"She rents it out through an agency. I'm gonna send Jack in to get the key from the rental car. He'll be thrilled. He's always wanted to go to a ranch, and it's small enough. My aunt just keeps a couple horses and since I wrote that I love horses and bullshitted a few references, she's letting us take care of them for a few days. The rental agent lady just has to have us sign responsibility forms or something. It's wierd, but it'll be a treat."  
'You miss the daily riding?" Charlotte knows how much I love horses, although I love the press more.  
"Kind of. I'm actually wondering if the whole ranch near Santa Fe thing is going to mess with Jack's desire for, well..." I blush slightly. I can talk frankly about a lot of things, but some times I'd just rather not.  
"Hon, it's your honeymoon we're talking about. You'll go on rides during the time that he can't do the other stuff." She doesn't phase. Oh Charlotte.  
I don't respond, instead thinking about what I really wish I could give Jack right now, as the cabby swerves violently through the busy streets. I wish I could show up there, meet Jack, and have him get to see all his friends again.  
Jack's waiting outside when we pull up, wearing the slacks and shirt we agreed on, with a pin-stripe vest and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up so that his appearance, more formal than usual, oozed his personality. Sometimes I wonder if his skill at "distribution" as he and I refer to it in public, but "carrying the banner" as we call it in private, was because of his looks, at least with any female customers. He sees Charlotte getting out of the cab and comes over quickly, helping me out of the cab as Charlotte pays the taxi fare.  
"You look gorgeous Erika," he whispers in my ear as he hugs me close, careful not to muss up my hair. "An dat dress. Where'd you find it?"  
"An estate sale-you know, the one Mary sent me to?" I pull back and spin around carefully. "What do you think?"  
His face is unreadable, and for a moment he looks like he's seeing a ghost, and I wonder if he ever was this close to another girl back then. "I think dat it's perfect."  
"Where's this accent coming from Jack?" Charlotte asked, as she hugged him quickly, before we all started to head inside to be on time for the wedding.  
"Old habit. Sorry." He sounds more modern again, and I sigh quietly, wondering why I loved Jack more when he sounded like the bewildered Jack I'd first met.  
Silence reigns again, as we walk through the crowded halls to the waiting room for the justice of the peace, Charlotte sitting in a corner picking up a Sunset magazine, while Jack and I sat next to each other, holding hands and smiling at each other, not speaking, except through our eyes.  
"I wish they could be here."  
"Who? Your mysterious birth parents?" He refers to the fact that I never met my birth parents, and that I didn't know much about them. I had a last name, but I hadn't told Jack. Especially since I wasn't sure it was really my last name.  
"No." I look at him with a sad smile. "Your friends. Blink, Mush, Race, David, Les, Crutchy..."  
He shuts me up with a soft kiss to my lips, the first of the day, just as a door opens and "Jack Kelly and Erika Worthington?" is called into the inner confines to get married.  
I'm about to become Mrs. Jack Kelly, and I'm no longer scared, as Jack leans down and whispers in my ear. "I love you." He helps me stand up and I smile thankfully at him.  
"Love you too Jack." I whisper, before handing the assistant the copy of the text we'd requested especially. We'd had to argue a bit, but we had gotten our request accepted. The text wasn't from the late 1800s, or the early 1900s, but I'd found it in a book and I'd fallen in love with it, and well, Jack had agreed with it too. It was neutral.  
The justice of the peace looked over the text we were asking for as Jack and I stood next to each other, waiting as Charlotte came in and sat in the corner, her SLR camera out of her bag, ready to take pictures, and Jack's assistant Joey came flailing in last minute (he'd had to get his kid to daycare before he could come, so we'd known he'd be rushing in), a video camera already out. "Everyone here?" The justice of the peace, a kindly seeming man who had a picture of his grandkids on his desk said, as he stood up, coming to stand in his place where there was a little space for the ceremony.  
"Yessir." Jack responded, as he felt his pocket, looking for something probably. "Can we get started please? We've got a busy schedule today."  
"Don't we all?" The justice of the peace quipped, before clearing his throat and brandishing the papers with the ceremony text. "We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Erika Worthington and Jack Kelly. There are many things to say about marriage. Much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls, has come our way through all paths of belief, and from many cultures. With each union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. The law of life is love unto all beings. Without love, life is nothing, without love, death has no redemption. Love is anterior to Life, posterior to Death, initial of Creation and the exponent of Earth. If we learn no more in life, let it be this." He paused, looking at us with eyes that were assessing us with a different light, as he performed the ceremony. "Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. As with any aspect of life, it has its cycles, its ups and its downs, its trials and its triumphs."  
I could hear Char already snapping pictures, the click and whirring of her winding the film to the next picture making me want to smile, but all I could do was look in Jack's eyes, and slowly everything but the justice's voice faded away, and his voice was like a narrator as I looked into Jack's eyes and saw the love he had for me, and I knew my own eyes reflected my own returning love. Love for a guy from the past who'd made an existance for himself in the future, with me.  
"Listen to that which I am about to say. Above you are the stars, below you are the stones, as time doth pass, remember..." The man paused dramatically, showing he had a flair for reading these things to make them not bland quick ceremonies like many of them were. "Like a stone should your love be firm like a star should your love be constant. Let the powers of the mind and of the intellect guide you in your marriage, let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Be close, but not too close. Possess one another, yet be understanding. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease, for God is with you always." He paused and took a sip from a glass of water he had sitting nearby, and I wondered if ceremonies were usually already over for him by now, but I didn't care. I only cared about the man standing in front of me, that I was about to marry.  
"Jack Kelly, I have not the right to bind you to Erika Worthington, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in her hand."  
Jack pulled a ring out of his pocket and placed it in my hand, that I'd outstretched for the ring. "It is my wish." His voice was low and hoarse, but not like he had a cold. It was raw emotion that fueled Jack's words as he smiled at me, and I could swear I saw a tear forming in his eyes. The ring was a simple plain band that I'd found and had him come make sure it fit him when I was out shopping around the same time I found this dress. I had had it etched with something after he'd last seen it, and I planned to show him later when it was just the two of us what it said.  
"Erika Worthington," The justice of the peace turned to address me, "if it be your wish for Jack Kelly to be bound to you, place the ring on his finger."  
I took hold of Jack's left hand with my own left hand and slid the ring carefully on his ring finger with my right hand, noticing that my fingers were trembling ever so slightly. I kept my eyes locked with Jack's, and the look of happiness on his face made me start to smile even wider than I already was.  
"Erika Worthington, I have not the right to bind you to Jack Kelly, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in his hand."  
I turned to Char, who had momentarily put her camera down and stopped snapping pictures to hand me the ring that Jack had given her and ordered her not to let me see until this moment. It was a plain band with tiny little garnets embedded in it, circular and winking at me in the light. I could see what looked like an engraving on the inside as well. I placed it in Jack's outstretched hand and felt tears welling in my eyes, as I saw the tears in Jack's eyes well closer to the edge, as his smile seemed to stretch his face. "It is my wish," I whisper, knowing that these words are so important, not trusting my voice to be any louder.  
The justice of the peace smiles, out of the corner of my eye, and continues the ceremony in the same dramatic, but friendly voice like the guy in the Princess Bride."Jack Kelly, if it be your wish for Erika Worthington to be bound to you, place the ring on her finger."  
Jack slid the ring onto my finger, much the same way I had slid his ring onto his finger, and I felt my heart swell with emotions I had experienced only a hint of when he'd put my engagement ring on my finger. We'd opted not to have the justice prompt us through our vows, so Jack cleared his throat and took hold of both my hands, the feel of his ring against my right hand strange and comforting. "I, Jack Kelly, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take you, Erika Worthington, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire you and be desired by you, to possess you, and be possessed by you, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for you. I promise to love you wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change youin any way, because I love you just the way dat you are Snark, dat's true. I shall respect you, your beliefs, and your ways as I respect myself."  
Everyone laughed, myself included, as Jack had inserted a bit extra that was clearly his own, not the words that were from the text. Jack'd also refused to use the tehes and thous originally in the text. I smiled up at him, then took a deep breath to begin my own vows. "I Erika Worthington, in the name of the spirit of God that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood, and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, Jack Kelly to my hand, my heart, and my spirit to be my chosen one. To desire and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, and thy ways as I respect myself." I had left in all the old language because I loved that kind of language when it came to being formal.  
"By the power vested in me by God and the State, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your love so endure that its flame remains a guiding light unto you." The justice of the priest smiled at us as we looked at him hesitantly, not wanting to screw things up. "Oh just kiss!" He cried, smiling broadly at us.  
Jack grabbed me around the waist and ducked me into a passionate kiss, tilting me back so I had to rely on him to keep me from falling, as I wrapped my arms around his neck and waist, pulling him as close as I could that way. We stood up as Char whooped at us, and I blushed, knowing that she'd probably snapped a few good pictures of the kiss and that it was all on video due to Joey's helpful volunteering.  
We signed the certificate quickly and then we left, Jack's arm still wrapped around my waist, my arm still wrapped around his.

**AN: Ceremony text is a slightly modified (parts cut out) version of a "Pagan" medieval wedding ceremony designed for when people from different religions were there to watch the ceremony. I got it off the internet from a website full of various ceremony texts, so credit where credit is do.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Nope, don't own Newsies. This is still on an off/on again hiatus because of my schedule, no I don't smoke so that's why it sounds kinda wierd (at least to me) and it's dialogue heavy because of plot points that I'm considering and thus writing. If I decide I hate this idea, I may just delete chapters 2 and 3, edit chapter 4 and make it just a 2-shot. **

Chapter Five:

"Light me?" I asked, padding out onto the back porch to join Jack where he sat on the porch swing, watching the stars and smoking.  
"Sure Mrs. Kelly," Jack responded, turning and lighting the cigarette I'd pulled out of my pack of slims. "I thought you were asleep?"  
"Guess I wasn't," I shrug, sitting down next to him and relaxing, ignoring the temperature variant from inside to outside. It's actually more comfortable out here somehow.  
"Liar. I know when you're asleep Erika. It's the end of our second week as husband and wife, not our second week living together." He hugs me and keeps an arm wrapped around my shoulders.  
"Yeah, and I know when you're in a mood and thinking bout something," I retort. "Just tell me Jack?"  
"I just had a dream bout the past that reminded me of a few things and well..."  
"Jack..." I stop smoking for a moment and glare at him, my tone definitely telling him I wasn't going to take any shit over this one.  
"We might not be legally married if who I am ever comes to light?"  
"As in the fact that you were born in the 1800s and then got sent here mysteriously and you still won't tell me about that?" I shrugged his arm off and turned to face him. "Jack. I'm your WIFE. For the love of the newspaper industry, tell me already?"  
"He said Jack Kelly. My birth name is Francis Sullivan."  
"Yeah? And my last name isn't legally or by birth Worthington, but it's on my social security, and Kelly is on yours, so it works? What, suddenly wanting to be Francis freaking Sullivan?" I wanted to use a different word, but I couldn't. I didn't want to end up fighting during our last ten hours here.  
"No, NEVER!" Jack stood up and raked a hand through his hair before stubbing out his almost gone cigarette. "I just...wait. What? Worthington isn't..."  
"My real last name I'm not entirely sure of. My adoptive parents' last name is Carter." I wait for a moment to let it sink in that the Rosalyn Carter we're renting the farm from just might be a relation.  
"Ummm...Erika?" Jack looked at me sheepishly, somehow, in his idiocy still lovable and sexy. "I'm sorry. Look, I just...it's easier to move on and away from lingering in the past here. I wish we could stay."  
"I know." I stand up and hug him, knowing that the shirt I'm borrowing from him leaves my legs bare, and not caring. He has the citronella candle lit thankfully. "yeah, Rosalyn is sorta related. She doesn't know it's me."  
"What did you do?"  
"Stole a bunch of shit. Ask me no questions..."  
"...tell you no lies, got it." Jack hugged me back tighter for a moment and then kissed my neck before taking my cigarette from my hand and stubbing it out. "Come on...we both know we need to quit smoking. Since we're both up, want to just go on a ride? It's almost dawn."  
"You're addicted to riding out on the property on Rosalyn's favorite horse aren't you? I'm surprised she left him here." I turn to go inside to change into something more appropriate for riding. Jack's managed to put sweatpants on, but he'll need shoes and a shirt probably, unless he's decided to mess with my head and go barechested.  
"Maybe." He grinned at me, and I felt any frustration I had harbored towards him melt quickly. "Race you."

It's not until we're a few miles from the house, towards the edge of Rosalyn's property that I turn and decide to tell him the truth of the ideas that I harbor.  
"I don't think I was born here even Jack."  
He slows down to a trot beside me, and looks at me confused. "What?"  
"I don't have any memories before my sixteenth birthday, which is when I was adopted oddly, because of a car accident where the Carter's daughter who'd been my age died and I was somehow in. Doctors said I probably had brain damage."  
"But I saw the brain pictures when you had that bad bump on your head...that concussion." Jack scrunched up his face into a confused, yet thoughtful look that made me lean over and kiss him quickly.  
"I know. The Carters didn't like to talk about it, and I call them my parents, but the one thing I remember is the last name Conlon."  
"Fuck." The word slips out of Jack's mouth before he claps a hand over his mouth. "I suppose I should explain that I knew I was coming to the future now that you say Conlon."  
"Yeah. Conlon as in your friend Spot?"  
"Yeah. Seamus."  
"SEAMUS?" I shriek, the laughter bubbling up. "Oh that's good...the little first guy's name is Seamus?"  
"Yeah, and..." Jack looks hesitant. "Well, if I'm honest Erika, I think he's your little brother actually."  
Yeah. Don't drop nukes on me like that honey.


End file.
